


sinking ships go down (with grace)

by blithelybonny, SummerFrost



Series: Suitehearts [9]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Boys Being Very Rude To Each Other In the Service of Good Orgasms, Hate Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 06:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17843954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blithelybonny/pseuds/blithelybonny, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerFrost/pseuds/SummerFrost
Summary: “Wanna go, babe?”“Always,” Zimmermann answers.





	sinking ships go down (with grace)

**Author's Note:**

> Fitting, I believe, that my first published entry into our series is Nelly/Jack hatesex. *shrugs, not sorry*
> 
> You should all know that the original title was 'breathing with the aid of denial' which apparently is a misheard lyric, but was perfect, and I'm very sad about it. But title is from Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash by FOB.
> 
> WIth all the thanks and love to the squad, and to SummerFrost for writing some of this bad boy too. <3

**October 2018** ****  
** **

Nelly's always considered himself a lover, not a fighter, but there's something deeply and primally fulfilling about dropping gloves and laying into Zimmermann. They might only meet the Falconers twice a season, unless it's the Final, but chirping Jack until he loses his shit has become one of Nelly's absolute favorite pastimes. (Hockey fandom loves it too, he knows, and he couldn't deal with letting them down!)  ****  
** **

So he grins at Zimmermann across the faceoff circle, because sometimes that's all it takes, and he winks, and he pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek like a blowjob, and the second the puck drops, Nelly snipes it in a sick pass to Benji's waiting tape. It hits the back of the net behind Snow four seconds later. Parson-Zimmermann No Look One Timer, whomst? ****  
** **

Of course,  _ saying _ as much to Zimmermann earns Nelly a real earful. For someone who apparently has the personality of a sentient duvet, Zimmermann is actually really kinda sexy when he's pissed off. Nelly  _ gets it _ , okay? Yes, he's broad as fuck and plays gorgeous hockey and is not-terrible face-wise, but like when he's mouthing off and swearing like there's no tomorrow? Jack Zimmermann is actually kind of interesting. And fuckable. ****  
** **

Next faceoff, it's totally going down.  ****  
** **

“You're cute when you're angry, Zimmzies,” Nelly says sweetly, when they're eye to eye at the dot. The Schooners are up by two goals, but they're also being embarrassingly out-shot 4 to 1 by a very revved up Falconers offense. It's anyone's game, unless Cooch continues to stonewall them in goal. “You're super fucking cute when you're losing,” Nelly adds, merry as fuck. ****  
** **

“Fuck off, Nelson,” Zimmermann growls. ****  
** **

“Two out of ten, man. Points for that sexy growl, but extreme lack of creativity.” Nelly lowers into a better crouch and gets his stick down, ready. “Wanna go, babe?” he asks, smirking. ****  
** **

“Always,” Zimmermann answers, and, as the whistle blows and the puck drops, he sheds his gloves immediately and throws himself into Nelly's waiting arms. ****  
** **

Zimmermann's got Nelly's sweater bunched up around his shoulders by the time they're pulled apart, and Nelly definitely landed a couple really good punches, but it was less a hockey fight and more Nelly's idea of good foreplay when all is said and done. Nelly reaches out and runs his hand through the sweaty curls peeking out from the back of Zimmermann's bucket, making him flinch away, before he starts skating to the box, and he grins to himself. It is so fucking  _ on _ . ****  
** **

\-- -- -- ****  
** **

Winning at home is always sweet, but winning away is even sweeter, especially in a fun, chippy game like this one ended up being. Truly, the way the home crowd boos is almost as good as Parse’s “babe, I’m horny” moves, in terms of getting Nelly in the mood. Nelly has some ideas for passing the rest of the night before their plane to New Jersey tomorrow morning, and blessedly, Zimmermann seems to have picked up what he put down. He's looking especially imposing and yet also weirdly approachable in a navy suit that fits really well (and therefore must have been chosen by Bits, back in the day) and a light pink dress-shirt. Yeah, okay, he looks really fucking hot with his yachty-preppy-“My daddy owns the New England Patriots” air and his murder-bot eyes. Nelly can see how Parse fell under that spell. ****  
** **

(Well, no, actually--Parse's thing with Zimmermann was something entirely else. It's possible that Zimmermann has hidden depths.) ****  
** **

“Nice almost goal in the second, buddy,” Nelly says as he approaches. Zimmermann doesn't push himself away from the hallway wall he's slouched against, so Nelly reaches out and smoothes the imaginary wrinkles at his shoulders. “I particularly liked the way it thunked against glass. So loud, right?” ****  
** **

Zimmermann narrows his eyes and straightens up so that they're eye-to-eye. “Are you ever not running that mouth, Nelson?” he murmurs. ****  
** **

Nelly grins at him. “I think you might find that there are occasionally times when my mouth is otherwise occupied, babe,” he replies, “but otherwise, nah, man, I can't shut up. ‘Specially when my target is just. So. Easy.” ****  
** **

“You think I'm easy?” Zimmermann raises a hand between them, gets it on Nelly's slim paisley tie and tugs him a little closer. “See, I have it on pretty good authority that you're the easy one.” ****  
** **

Nelly can't help but laugh. “Aren't you fucking cute? Thinking you have the hot goss, oh my god, Zimmerbabe, be more  _ basic _ .” ****  
** **

Zimmermann growls a little again, and Nelly has to reach down and casually adjust himself. Not casually enough for Zimmermann to miss it, of course, because that is so not the point here. Zimmermann's eyes follow the movement, and he doesn't let go of the tie either. “I've heard another rumor about you,” he says quietly. ****  
** **

“It's true,” Nelly answers, closing the remaining slight distance between them. He grips Zimmermann by the hips and then grinds his own hips lightly against him, letting Zimmermann feel it. ****  
** **

“Fuck.” It falls out of Zimmermann's mouth like he couldn't stop himself. ****  
** **

“Definitely the idea, asshole,” Nelly chirps, rolling his hips forward again. ****  
** **

“I-- you, you're such a--goddammit, you fucking--” ****  
** **

Nelly grinds in more forcefully this time, pinning Zimmermann to the wall, and then whispers raggedly into his ear, “Also true, babe, all of it. Come fuck me.” ****  
** **

When Nelly pulls back, Zimmermann’s super-blue eyes are dark and sexy as fuck, flashing with need and anger and annoyance, probably. It's a look Nelly knows well. “Yeah,” Zimmermann says, seemingly more to himself than anything. “Yeah, yeah I want...I want that.” ****  
** **

Nelly scoffs and steps back. “‘Course you do, sweetheart. Let's go.” ****  
** **

\-- -- -- ****  
** **

Zimmermann's apartment is fucking  _ nice _ . Nelly's not really sure why he's kind of surprised by that fact, but he takes a second to really look around the place before Zimmermann shoves him up against the wall and gets teeth into his neck, like some kind of sexy Vampire. “Loving that kitchen, babe,” Nelly says, as Jack sucks at the bite he made and shoves a thigh between Nelly's legs. “You don't strike me as the fancy cooking type.” ****  
** **

“I've got layers,” Zimmermann growls into Nelly's neck. “Also shut the fuck up.” ****  
** **

“Make me, loser,” Nelly laughs. ****  
** **

It's so easy to wind Zimmermann up. Frankly, it's surprising that the guy doesn't get into it more than he already does on the ice. Just a few choice insults in exactly the right tone, and Zimmermann's ready to throw down. Or, in this case, drop to his knees just barely into his fancy-ass place and practically rip open Nelly's fly. ****  
** **

“Careful, babe, these are YSL,” Nelly teases, as he pets over Jack's hair, then sinks his fingers in to grip the slightly still wet strands. ****  
** **

Zimmermann tries to pull back from the grip, but whines a little when he does so, like he likes it which, a)  _ interesting  _ and b) Nelly can absolutely work with that. Nelly tugs on his hair again, deliberately this time, and Zimmermann pushes his face forward so he's nuzzling into Nelly's groin. “Fuck,  _ fuck _ ,” he whimpers, as his hands slide down and his fingers dig into Nelly's thighs. ****  
** **

Nelly bites back a laugh, but only just. He does chuckle a little and digs his fingers into Jack's skull, palming the back of it like a basketball, as Jack tightens his grip further. “Why am I not surprised,” he says, “that you like getting pushed around?” ****  
** **

“Fuck you...” Zimmermann tries again, trailing off when Nelly squeezes not at all gently at the back of his neck. “It's hockey,” he then explains, as he slides his hands back up and starts fumbling to get Nelly's dick out. “We all like to push, right?” ****  
** **

Nelly does laugh this time, but it cuts off when Jack gets his mouth around him. Or, some of him, anyway. “That all you can take, babe?” ****  
** **

Zimmermann hesitates, glaring up at Nelly with those murder-eyes. It occurs to Nelly, in that split second, that there are a  _ lot  _ of teeth exceedingly close to his favorite part of his body. Which must occur to Zimmermann too, because he just  _ barely  _ scrapes them along the next time he takes Nelly down his throat.  _ Hot. _ ****  
** **

“Oh,  _ fuck,”  _ Nelly hisses. He pounds his fist against the wall when Zimmermann sucks back, fingers still bruising Nelly’s thighs. “Someone trained you good, baby.” ****  
** **

Zimmermann growls, deep in his throat, which Nelly’s dick would very much like him to do again. ****  
** **

“It’s gotta be Bitty.” Nelly re-tightens his grip in Zimmermann’s hair. “I mean, we both know how Kenny is—” ****  
** **

Zimmermann pulls all the way off, the spit squelching when Nelly’s dick bobs free. “Don’t talk about Kent.” ****  
** **

_ Even better.  _ Nelly grips Zimmermann’s jaw and gives up the hold on his hair to feed his dick back in, and Zimmermann just fucking  _ takes  _ it.  ****  
** **

“C’mon, babe,” Nelly soothes, petting at the seam of Zimmermann’s lips. “You don’t wanna hear what you’ve been missing? I mean, fuck, he’s been incredible since you left.” ****  
** **

Zimmermann squeezes his eyes shut. His nails rake up to Nelly’s ass; it feels like a couple even drew blood, which is fucking wild and, wow, God, this is exactly what Nelly wanted. ****  
** **

“Keep sucking. Gonna have to do better than that if you wanna fuck me.” Nelly cups the back of Zimmermann’s head again and slides his other hand to his throat. He can feel it working while Zimmermann tries to swallow and breathe at the same time. “Your boy—I mean, formerly-known-as—fucks me so  _ well,  _ babe, you have no idea. Want me to call him, get some pointers for you?” ****  
** **

Zimmermann shoves Nelly away so hard that he actually loses his balance, his jeans locking the range of motion of his thighs, and he’s pinned with his front against the wall before he regains it. Nelly’s cheek scrapes against the drywall; he can feel hot breath on his face and Zimmermann’s dick bulging through his slacks where it’s pressed against his ass.  ****  
** **

The hair on the back of his neck would stand up, if Zimmermann’s hand weren’t holding it down. ****  
** **

“I said,” Zimmermann grits out, “don’t talk about him.” ****  
** **

Nelly has a lot of sex, but it’s been a while since anything’s made him feel this much like an animal—something with those big canine teeth that drip saliva and gape wide enough to fit an entire head inside. He taunts, “How about Bitty, then? Let’s talk about him, sweetheart.” ****  
** **

“Don’t,” Zimmermann growls. ****  
** **

“Did you know he swore off our kind for  _ good,  _ babe?” Nelly laughs and pushes back against Zimmermann’s hold. He’s got three inches on Zimmermann, but he’s not sure he could shake him off if he actually needed to. That just makes it better. “How  _ bad  _ do you have to be in the sack to send your ex fucking cross-country?” ****  
** **

Zimmermann whines as he pushes Nelly forward more, using his hips and grinding up against Nelly's ass again. “I'm not-- I--I'm good, that's not why--” ****  
** **

“--fuck, babe, I don't believe you,” Nelly jeers, arching his back. “I feel like I'm going to have to do all the work here, even though I deserve way fucking better after that performance tonight. Right? You were there. You saw me work, right, Zimms?”  ****  
** **

The noise Zimmermann makes at that will probably be burned into Nelly’s brain forever, this hot, wounded thing that hurts and feels amazing at the same time. He hears Zimmermann undo his belt and unzip his fly, making little undecipherable sounds as he works, then feels the press of Jack's naked dick nudging between his cheeks.  _ Commando, niiiiice, _ he thinks, as Zimmermann drags his dick in a slow grind over Nelly's hole. ****  
** **

“Gonna show you,” Zimmermann promises, low and filthy in Nelly's ear. ****  
** **

“I guess we'll see,” Nelly replies dismissively, as he pushes back on the wall and into the roll of Zimmermann's hips. ****  
** **

\-- -- -- ****  
** **

Nelly thought they might have just fucked right there in Zimmermann's front hall, messy and too dry and just the right side of painful, except that clearly Zimmermann has other ideas about “showing him”. Which is how Nelly finds himself unceremoniously shoved onto the king-sized bed in what has to be a guest bedroom, left to watch as Zimmermann removes his jacket, dress shirt, and pants, and stands over the bed looking down at Nelly. It is... _ distressingly  _ hot, being the focus of that unnerving gaze. Nelly can almost see the plays lighting up in Zimmermann's mind. Look at the ice, yeah, see how everyone is laid out, which lanes are open, where is it safe to pass, when to shoot, when to move. ****  
** **

“Must have been unreal, back in the day,” Nelly says, palming his dick and giving himself a few squeezes. ****  
** **

Zimmermann's gaze twitches down to the movement for a second, then back up along the length of Nelly's body before he answers. “What?” ****  
** **

“You and Kenny. Together.” Nelly doesn't clarify, lets Zimmermann try to decide which way he means. It might be cruel, actually, he thinks. While Parser has never explicitly confirmed it, Nelly's pretty confident that Zimmermann is the only one who ever really called him “Kenny” -- at least in that particular tone. ****  
** **

Zimmermann inhales sharply, but softly enough that Nelly might not have heard if he wasn't paying attention. There's a brief moment where Nelly considers maybe that he's gone a little too far, considers maybe backing off, toning it down to regular, run of the mill rough sex (which, you know, A+ either way), but then Zimmermann sneers down at Nelly, looking every bit the monster from Parse's dreams. “You'll never have it,” he says. “Not like we did.” ****  
** **

“You're right, babe...” Nelly drawls like the posh Catholic boy he never really was, as he pushes up onto his elbows, dangling the puck as fancy as you please. He waits until Jack leans down, their lips barely apart, to whisper, “It's so much better.” ****  
** **

Zimmermann crushes his lips to Nelly's, hard enough to bruise, as he, with way more grace than Nelly would have anticipated, crawls onto the bed to bracket Nelly's legs with his knees. He shoves at Nelly's shoulders, trying to push him down, but Nelly resists as he kisses back. “I think it's me,” Jack says, pressing the gravelly words into the sensitive skin of Nelly's neck, “that needs to call Kenny and get some tips for you.” ****  
** **

“He's got jokes,” Nelly laughs. He squeezes his legs together until Jack collapses on top of him, aligning their cocks, and wraps his arms around the thick curve of Jack's considerable ass. “Why don't you show me what you think you've got before we start making phone calls, babe.” ****  
** **

“Fuck you,” he rasps, as he presses his hands into the bed, trying to get away or maybe just trying to get better leverage for frotting. Either way, it gets the job done. Zimmermann groans like it's being pulled from him, and Nelly echoes him. He does it again, more deliberately, grinding in roughly when Nelly smacks his ass with both hands and squeezes the full cheeks just a little too hard. ****  
** **

Nelly laughs when Zimmermann tries to push up and away a third time, only to whine and drop his hips to rub against Nelly's cock again. “Awwwwww,” Nelly coos, over-exaggerated and maybe weirdly sounding entirely too much like Bitty for what the moment might call for, but...eh? “I know I'm irresistible, sweetheart. Just let go. Take it. I know you want it.” ****  
** **

Jack drops down onto Nelly’s torso with a heavy  _ whump  _ and shoves his face up and under Nelly’s chin, nuzzling aggressively, letting his stubble scrape along the nape, as one hand slides up along the side of the bed to reach under the pillow Nelly’s got his head on. “I want it,” he says, low and longing in Nelly’s ear. “I want it, I want it.” ****  
** **

“Take it,” Nelly orders again, bending his knees and getting his feet flat on the bed to trap Jack between his thighs. ****  
** **

Zimmermann makes a helpless little noise that’s muffled into Nelly’s neck. He nods quickly, a wordless  _ yesyesyes _ , when Nelly thrusts up against him. There’s not much leverage to do it well--Zimmermann is a big dude--but it’s clearly enough to motivate him. He pulls his hand out from under the pillow and pushes up so that he can look Nelly in the eyes now, shows the little bottle of lube that had been under there, which, fuck,  _ is _ this his actual bedroom? Where are the, like, pictures on the walls or the dogbed or clothes that didn’t quite make it into the hamper or-- ****  
** **

“Fucking Christ, Zimmermann!” Nelly groans, when Jack interrupts his super sad inner monologue about Zimmermann’s depressing bedroom by wrapping a big hand around Nelly’s cock and squeezing too hard and absolutely perfect. ****  
** **

“I don’t even want to finger you,” Zimmermann says, jacking Nelly in the awkwardly tiny space between their bodies. “I just want to push in and make you take it all.” ****  
** **

“Won’t--ah  _ shit, fuck _ \--won’t be a- _ ah _ \-- problem.” Nelly squirms a little, trying to dislodge Zimmermann’s hand because then maybe he’ll put his dick back there, which was really, really working for Nelly before. “Spent most of last night with a dildo up there while your former boy talked me off.” ****  
** **

“Who--” Zimmermann abruptly cuts himself off on a frustrated groan, but does in fact remove his hand. He slides back up, aligns his dick with Nelly’s, and then wraps a hand around both of them, frotting against Nelly and working their heads with a neat twist of his wrist. ****  
** **

Nelly laughs brightly, even as he works his hips up to meet Zimmermann’s thrusts in time, and comments, “Soft fuckin’ hands, babe. Who taught you that one?” ****  
** **

“Does it-- _ ungh _ \--matter?” ****  
** **

“Hah! Nah, not really,” Nelly chirps, though he makes a mental note to thank Bitty later. “Now go get a fuckin’ condom before you go off, loser. I want your dick in me.” ****  
** **

Zimmermann pulls back, looks stricken, and like, it really shouldn’t be sexy, but it super fucking is. “I wouldn’t-- fuck, Nelson, I wouldn’t ever--” ****  
** **

“Chop chop, buddy, time’s a-wastin’,” Nelly interrupts, smirking at him. “I’m getting hella bored.” Which is not at all fucking true, but a good motivator for Zimmermann’s ‘gotta prove myself’ thing. ****  
** **

Zimmermann pauses a moment, looks down at Nelly lying there on his sad-ass empty bed, and seems to draw a smirk from somewhere deep in his archives. “Okay,” he says, “Yeah. I’ve got you.” ****  
** **

\-- -- -- ****  
** **

The small, petty part of Nelly’s brain that sounds like Parse and Bitty and, hell, maybe even Spenser on a really bad day, wants to find something to complain about, but unfortunately--or really  _ fortunately _ \--Zimmermann is really, really fucking good at sex. Fucking someone you don’t really like all that much but are very attracted to usually takes place from behind, but Jack’s got Nelly’s legs draped over his shoulders and he’s driving in with these sharp, aggressive snaps of his hips and all the power of his enormous glutes and tree-trunk thighs behind them. He looks so goddamned pissed off too, the look on his face one of both concentration and angry despair, like he can’t believe how hard he’s working and how much he’s fucking loving it at the same time. ****  
** **

So, you know, hella fucking relatable. ****  
** **

It’s hard to even find ways to chirp him, but Nelly’s really trying to keep his wits about him enough to spark a little more of that annoyance, keep Zimmermann in his A-game. “That’s it, buddy,” he says, the words punched out of him with each thrust. “Fuck me like you mean it.” ****  
** **

“I’m  _ not _ your buddy, Nelson,” Zimmermann responds. ****  
** **

Nelly laughs, but it dissolves into a moan when Zimmermann shifts his angle just enough that he starts hitting Nelly’s prostate. “Fuck  _ me _ \--” ****  
** **

“--I  _ am _ ,” Zimmermann echoes, in the same tone. A bead of sweat drips off the tip of his nose and lands on Nelly’s chest. Zimmermann somehow (Christ, does he have more than two hands?) manages to snake a hand down to swipe through Nelly’s chest-hair, nails digging in a satisfying scratch across his pecs and then down the line of his treasure trail to scrape again through the coarser hair at the base of Nelly’s bobbing dick. It’s too much and not enough, and literally, how? ****  
** **

_ Christ, it’s like fucking a porn star _ . ****  
** **

Zimmermann fucking  _ giggle-honks _ \--like Benji, only meaner, like a goose, and fuck, Nelly said that porn star thing out loud, didn’t he… “Told you I was good,  _ babe _ ,” he says, as he suddenly and very unfairly slows the roll of his hips to a sensual dancehall grind. His dick drags over Nelly’s prostate with each movement in and out, sparking pleasure deep in Nelly’s gut and making pre-come dribble copiously from his dick. Zimmermann gets that roving hand over Nelly’s tip, catches it between his fingers, and then raises his hand and shoves it at Nelly’s lips, so he can taste himself. “Want more proof, sweetheart?” ****  
** **

And so, like,  _ no.  _ Nelly cannot let this stand, as is. Zimmermann does not get to keep the upperhand at the moment. He pushes up on his elbows so he can get at least a little closer to Zimmermann’s face. (He’s an elite athlete sure, but he’s not about to be completely bent in half when he’s got a hockey game to play tomorrow night.) “Ever bust out your fancy little tricks with Parse?” he tries. “Or were you too busy showing off to notice what he wanted?” ****  
** **

Well, it definitely lands. Zimmermann kinda looks like he got boarded by that dillhole on the Aeros who can’t stop getting suspended for dirty hits. Nelly doesn’t even think it was that great a chirp--it was supposed to just kinda be a reminder that Nelly gets to fuck Parse now, on the reg, and does it really fucking well, not something to make Zimmermann question every single choice he’s ever made in his life. And Nelly-- well, he knows he’s kind of an asshole, but he’s not cruel, usually, even when he’s trying to get someone to get mad and fuck him good. ****  
** **

But then, Jack’s murder-eyes get a little life back into them, before Nelly can tap out and apologize. “You want me to fuck you like I used to fuck Parse,” he says, low and even and scary-hot. ****  
** **

It’s not a question, but Nelly finds himself shaking his head no, anyway, slow and deliberate, buying himself a little time to make sure that he and Zimmermann are back on the same page. ****  
** **

“You want--” ****  
** **

“I...beat you...today,” Nelly then interrupts, slowly. He cocks his head to the side, looking up at Zimmermann consideringly. “I stole the puck from you over and over again, and I  _ beat  _ you.” ****  
** **

Zimmermann looks like he’s processing again, but then he narrows his eyes and exhales like he’s beyond frustrated. “Fuck you, Nelson--I wasn’t the only one fucking out there on that fucking ice,” he says. ****  
** **

Nelly smirks at him. “There he is.” ****  
** **

“Here he is,” Zimmermann repeats, then snaps his hips in a brutal thrust. ****  
** **

And  _ yeah, that’s that good shit, right there. _ ****  
** **

\-- -- --

There’s come cooling on his stomach and sweat drying on his neck and down his back, and it’d be really fucking unpleasant, except that Zimmermann’s delicious broad shoulders are still spread between Nelly’s thighs and he’s gently licking at Nelly’s hole. So like, definitely worse places to be in the world. Nelly works his fingers through the sweat-slick strands of Jack’s boyband hair, scritching against his scalp, as it’s about all he can muster. He is well and thoroughly fucked out. ****  
** **

“Fucking--” Nelly cuts off on a sigh, as a curl of pleasure wends through him, not urgent at all, but soft and a nice contrast to the pounding he took before. “Kudos, babe,” he continues after a moment. ****  
** **

Zimmermann hums and the vibration of it against Nelly’s hole feels really good. ****  
** **

Which is obviously why it’s really time to get his shit together and go. ****  
** **

Nelly digs into Zimmermann’s skull with his knuckles, making him let out a displeased noise. “Don’t fuss, Zimms. I gotta split.” ****  
** **

Zimmermann shifts back on the bed and glares up at Nelly from between his thighs, and  _ fuck, it’s hot _ . “Don’t fucking call me that,” he demands. ****  
** **

Nelly laughs at him. “Don’t try to rev me up again, babe. I mean, shit, it’s working,” he jerks his chin down and indicates his dick which is perking up once more, “but I’ve got some Devils to defeat tomorrow. As much, uh, something as this all his been.” ****  
** **

“Yeah,” Zimmermann replies, unreadable. He shifts back further and, with what looks like a little effort, rolls off the bed and gets up. “Fuck me,” he says, quietly enough that Nelly doesn’t think it was meant for him to hear. ****  
** **

“Maybe next time, sweets,” Nelly replies, because he can. He reaches blindly to the side to find something to wipe the come off and comes up with one of his own socks. “Ugh, fine.” Nelly wipes as much off as he can, then balls up the sock and tosses it in the direction Zimmermann had earlier tossed the used condom.  ****  
** **

He feels tacky and sweaty and pleasantly sore all over, like a really good workout after an already good workout actually. Fuck, he’s probably going to pay for it tomorrow. Super worth it, though. ****  
** **

“Do you need…” Zimmermann trails off. ****  
** **

Nelly lets him sit in the discomfort, as he stands up and rolls out his shoulders, shakes out his legs. He dresses deliberately, carefully does up the buttons on his dress shirt, tucks it into his slim-fit trousers, even puts his tie back on. He is, he’s aware, probably ruining most of his clothes, but the tension radiating from Zimmermann is too delicious. ****  
** **

When he’s finally ready, he turns back to face Zimmermann, who has in the meantime got back into his boxer shorts and sat down on the edge of the bed. Nelly grins and comes forward to fit himself back in between Zimmermann’s knees. He takes Jack’s face in his hands, presses his thumbs into the hinge of his jaw until his mouth has to open, then surges down to give him one last filthy kiss. ****  
** **

“‘S’been fun, Zimmermann,” Nelly murmurs. “I’ll be sure to say hello for you.” ****  
** **

“Okay,” Zimmermann replies, quietly. “Yes, uh, please.” ****  
** **

Nelly straightens up, drags his thumb over Zimmermann’s swollen lower lip, slips it between and lets Zimmermann suck it once. He nips sharply at the tip when Nelly starts to pull it out, and Nelly grins at him, unable to help it. “Until next time?” ****  
** **

It’s not really a question though. There’s definitely going to be a next time.


End file.
